


don't hold back, let it out

by GingerHoran



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, Boyfriends, High School-Alternative Universe, M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:03:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerHoran/pseuds/GingerHoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They play games like best friends, tell secrets like school children, they kiss like dirty teenagers and make love like a married couple on their honeymoon.</p><p>It’s not high school love, its real love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't hold back, let it out

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Kiss Land by the Weeknd

When Zayn wakes up, it’s not to his buzzing alarm that rings without fail at 6:30am, or to shrilling of his slightly preening mother after he presses the snooze button several dozen times, no, it’s instead the ringtone of his mobile.

_I'm lost without you_   
_Can't help myself_   
_How does it feel to know that I love you baby?_

And he loves this song, because Robin Thicke is a legend and he’s always been a fan, but right now he just wants to smash his mobile against his wall and stop the silky, sensual voice that’s currently pouring through his eardrums.

“ ‘ello, whose this,” he groans, his eyes closed as he fumbles with the sheets idly, trying to find that _warm_ spot he had just seconds ago, before the _damn phone rang._

“Babe, you better not be sleeping.” And Zayn knows who it is, and the groan that threatened to be ripped from his throat is stuck, because who can be mad at their impossibly hot, did I mention Irish boyfriend.

“No, m’not sleeping.” He promises, _lies lies lies,_ but waking up in the morning is not his favourite pastime so you can’t exactly blame the boy, but Niall has always had a knack at pulling the boy out of bed using just his voice, it’s sort of thrumming, croaky and sexy and _promises more…_

“Whatever Z, but just be early to school. Yeah?” he mumbles, and Zayn’s reply isn’t heard because Niall’s singing, and it’s sweet and airy and he _fucking_ loves it.

“Hmm, I’m up, I’m up” Zayn says quickly, shuffling around in the sheets to capture the warmth along his frozen toes before he flips off the covers with a groan. Niall singing in that Irish accent sends Zayn into a whirl, and he’s dizzy and mad and he realises once again why he’s in love.

Zayn loves the way that Niall wears his tie loose, his shirt buttoned up halfway so you can see his chest hair, he dresses in his school uniform lazily, and half-heartedly but he’s always loud, and social and loveable in one motion.

 Niall always thumbs gently over Zayn’s wrist in the school corridor, pulling him into the boy’s toilets for a quick morning snog and an exchange of cherry bubble-gum, which Zayn hates to love, because cherries are nasty, but Niall loves them.

Assembly is always a riot, because although Harry pulls Niall onto his lap and places a sloppy kiss on his cheek, because he’s Harry, he’s the flirt, Zayn’s possessive and grips the Irish boys thigh almost demandingly, who apologises with a sheepish smile and a flash of those braces, and all is forgiven, even though it’s _not even his fault_ in the first place.

“ You’re late, and I love you” is the first thing he hears when he enters the sixth form common room, and the girls are giggling in the corner, and there’s paper balls flying around and some random mix-tape playing in the background, but Zayn pulls off his shoulder bag dropping it beside his locker with a shrug.

“ I know, sorry bubs” he mutters with a yawn, and Niall’s nose scrunches cutely at the nickname, but then Liam’s muttering about some maths test, and Zayn’s groaning because he knew he forgot something, and Liam’s giving him _that look._

Louis is nowhere to be seen, and Zayn’s extra cautious as he walks to his English class his had loosely gripping Niall’s, who smells like cinnamon, and vanilla, and _shit_ why does his boyfriend smell so nice?

“Where’ Lou?” Niall says, and Zayn almost covers his eyes in despair, because the boys jumps out of _fucking_ nowhere and sprays them liberally with silly string, and Harry’s laughing and Liam’s disapproving and Niall’s pouting.

Lunch is something else entirely, there’s the heavy weight situated in his lap scoffing a chocolate danish, whilst Louis’ counting out the endless amount of change in his pocket to see if he can buy a tuna sandwich that’ll probably just rot in his locker.

 Harry is talking to some teacher about changing his biology grade, he’s tried _flirting,_ but Mr Greenwood really _isn’t interested._ And Liam’s writing up an essay again because his pen was stolen, (actually Louis borrowed it to try and scrape gum from the underside of his maths desk, to then flick the pieces into the abundance of his curls whilst he was texting someone)

But that’s Zayn’s life, he hates mornings with a passion but he gets dragged out of bed by his beautiful boyfriend’s gorgeous laugh, and he gets snogged in the janitor’s classroom with a hand dragging through his hair messing it up, but he _doesn’t_ care. He’s got three mental best mates, who tease him about his quiffed hair, his taste in music and why the Weeknd album is constantly on repeat whenever they go round to his house to play Xbox.

But then there’s his boyfriend, who he helps with those darn Shakespeare quotes, who he’d listen to drone on and on about a _fucking_ sandwich for all he cares and he wouldn’t die of boredom, who he lets play with his hair and lay in his arms and kiss him until his lips are numb, but he still _loves him._

Those plump lips are on his at the moment, they’re nipping teasingly as he straddles him with Kiss Land by the Weeknd playing in the background, and Zayn growls.

“I just wanna hear your body talk” he mouths along to the words, and Niall looks down at him, blue eyes wide and dark, hair dishevelled and lips bitten and red, and Zayn thinks about how this beautiful boy is all his, _all his_ , and he doesn’t share.

“I love you”

And the gleaming smile he gets in return causes his heart to do a back-flip, and smash against his ribcage all in one motion and he’s breathing in all at once, and those lips are kissing him ferociously wanting _more more more._

Zayn never denies, so he gives, he grips his small waist a little tight, and runs his hands through the soft blond hair, slowly gripping the back of his neck to loosen the blue striped tie.

-

Shirts end up on the floor, and they’ve kissed so much that Niall no longer tastes of that chocolate danish but just of Niall, and he’s ultimately much sweeter and more addictive so Zayn doesn’t mind, and kisses him until their lips are numb and tingly.

“I love you Z, I fucking love you so much. I want you to be my first and last love, and it’s scary because I’ve never felt this about anyone, anyone at all, but I feel like this about you. I want you, I want all of you forever”

Zayn’s never seen those eyes insecure before, and as he runs his hands through his hair, and across his rippling back muscles, no words are needed as his eyes gleam, and he knocks their foreheads together for another mind blowing kiss.

It’s not just a high school love, the same look he gives Niall, is that same he sees in his parents eyes every day, it’s the same protection and possessiveness that he feels for his little sister, but of course it’s a little more, _just a little more._

That little more, are Niall’s cherry red lips, his darkened blue eyes, his rippling chest and that arched back when he lies beneath him whimpering his name like a chime, _over and over again._ It’s those morning phone calls that come before his alarm, and those stolen kisses in the janitor’s closet, or the sneaky looks in the common room, and the bum pinching at lunch time.

They play games like best friends, tell secrets like school children, they kiss like dirty teenagers and make love like a married couple on their honeymoon.

It’s not high school love, its real love.


End file.
